Family Sins(20)

And one by one, they laid the signs they’d been holding at Henry Clayton’s feet and walked off into the night.

Henry sighed. This wasn’t his case, and he didn’t want any part of bucking the Waynes, but he’d grown up with Stanton. The man deserved his justice.

Henry began gathering up the signs and tossing them into the back of his cruiser. He would deal with them tomorrow. Tonight, he just needed to get home and take off his damn shoe.

*

The killer stood in the dark, watching from his bedroom window as the police car arrived and dispersed the protestors.

He was wondering who in Eden would have the guts to protest so openly, knowing full well what his family could do to them. Then he thought about the people who’d already been displaced. They had nothing left to lose, and obviously Stanton Youngblood had been their friend.

He frowned. Right now the family had only been called out by a grieving woman. But their lawyer had warned them that the authorities would soon be all over them. They would have no choice but to put up with the interrogations. The final word of a dying man was powerful.

He watched until the cop car was gone, and then stepped away from the window and sat down in the dark. He needed to think—to make sure there were no loose ends that would tie him to this. He was thoroughly disgusted that he hadn’t gone to make sure Stanton was dead before he ran. He frowned, thinking back to the day’s events. Even though he hadn’t seen this situation coming, he still wouldn’t change what he’d done.

*

Bowie woke up before daybreak to the sound of footsteps in the hall outside his room. He glanced at the time and frowned. It was barely five. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. Every time he’d turned over in the night he’d heard movement somewhere in the house. His mother was struggling. They were all struggling. A death is one thing. A murder is another.

It had occurred to Bowie after he’d gone to bed last night to wonder if his mother could be a target, too. Until this was resolved, they needed to make sure she was never alone.

He heard a cabinet door bang and guessed she was starting her day, so he got up and dressed, then headed into the kitchen. She’d started the coffeemaker but not the food, and she wasn’t anywhere in the house. He noticed the back door was ajar and walked out, guided by the light coming from the kitchen behind him.

She was sitting in the porch swing in the dark, with her hands pressed against her chest.

“Mama?”

Leigh looked up.

“Did I wake you?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. Are you in physical pain?” he asked, pointing at the way she was clutching at the blouse over her heart.

She shook her head and then patted the seat beside her.

“Come talk to me, Bowie. I need to think about something besides the hell we’re living, if only for a moment.”

He sat down beside her, kissed the side of her cheek and then pushed off with the toe of his boot, letting the swing rock them into daybreak.

“I’d talk about the scenery, but it’s too dark to see it,” he said.

“I couldn’t lay in that bed alone,” she said, and then started to cry.

Bowie groaned inwardly as tears welled.

“I can’t begin to know what you’re feeling, Mama. I grieve from the standpoint of a son, but I know he was your life and you were his. We love you so much. Just hang on to that fact while you find a new way to be in this world.”

Leigh leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment before she could gather herself to speak.

“When did you get so smart?” she asked, and then felt him shrug.

“She didn’t die, but when I lost Talia, I didn’t know how to be here without her. I had to find new footing. It’s why I left.”

Leigh wiped her eyes and blew her nose as her mother instinct kicked in. This was something they’d all known, but since he’d never talked of it to them, they’d respected that choice. This opened the door.

“What happened, son? We wondered. All of us did. We were so sad for your heartache, but as sorry as we were to see you go, we understood.”

“I asked her to marry me. She said no without an explanation. It was a shock, and it broke my heart. I grew up and got over it.”

Leigh turned to him then, and even though it was dark, she saw enough—from the set of his jaw to the way he looked everywhere but at her—to know that wasn’t true.

“Did you really get over it?” she asked.

“I thought so. Until I heard Aunt Polly talking about Talia and her dad.”

“Are you going to go see her?”

Bowie was silent for a few moments.

“I think I have to,” he finally said.

“What if you find out you still care for her?”

“It won’t matter, not if she’s moved on,” he said.

“And if she didn’t forget?”

“I’m not sure.”

Leigh patted his hand.

“If you love someone with all your heart and you walk away, your life will never be as it was meant to be. You will always be unhappy. You will never be rich enough or successful enough to fill that void. Love matters, Bowie. It matters most of all.”

He heard, but he didn’t have the composure to comment.

His mother must have sensed his dilemma, because she changed the subject and kept talking.